


Ode to the Blue Sea Star

by AwakeAt2AM



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Ghosts, Hurt/Comfort, It's Sylvain and Felix loving hours in this household, Multi, Occasional fluff, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, crests having unexpected side effects, turns out dragon blood doesn't sit well with everyone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22804573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwakeAt2AM/pseuds/AwakeAt2AM
Summary: Ariadne Cerys Heddwyn transfers to Garreg Mach's Officers Academy along with her cousin, Lorenz. She does this only so she isn't left alone with people itching to make Crest connections, but little does she know how one simple choice to follow will impact the entire rest of her life.Enter Felix Hugo Fraldarius and Sylvain Jose Gautier, two troubled boys from Kingdom territory, who turn her world on its head.A collection of fics that delve into Three Houses, involving my original character Ariadne, and some of TrickyBunny's characters too. Chapters will be posted as I write them out.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Glenn Fraldarius, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Original Character(s), Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier/Original Character(s), OC & Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, Sylvain Jose Gautier/Original Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	1. To Begin, to Start Anew

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Ghosts, mentions of blood
> 
> Lore Eisner is @JusticeDoesDraw's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ariadne prepares to depart for Garreg Mach Monastery. She gets a surprise visitor.

Ariadne Cerys Heddwyn examines her new uniform. It’s thick, black with gold detailing. When she looks at herself in the mirror. The gold matches her blond hair well, better than the blues and silvers she’d been wearing at the School of Sorcery. She ties the coat around her waist, admiring the embroidery on the stark-white blouse. It’s in the traditional Seirosan style, all elegant gold loops crossing over each other. She thinks she likes it, even though she’s never really been fond of anything too closely connected with the creed of the Goddess.

Ariadne doesn’t notice Lorenz approach. She scarcely lifts her concentration until the violet-haired boy takes up a seat just behind her on her bed and clears his throat.

Ariadne will always say she doesn’t scare easy, but startling is a different matter entirely. She lets out a squeak, turning on one heel, unbalanced. When Lorenz does his best to restrain a cackle Ariadne gives a little sigh, sitting down next to him and whapping his arm lightly with her hand.

“I thought I wasn’t going to see you ‘til Garreg Mach,” Ariadne says.

“I may have proposed a slight detour,” Lorenz replies. “You’re not far from the road we would have needed to take, after all. I hoped we might travel the rest of the way together.”

Ariadne gives a little smile, leaning back on her bed. It doesn’t take her long to notice that Lorenz is barely out of his riding clothes. “Are you telling me you rode ahead just for this?”

Lorenz rolls his eyes. Tiredness pulls at the edges of his face. “Just? I haven’t seen you in nearly two months, and you haven’t written in at least one.”

Ariadne winces. “Bandit trouble recently. I didn’t even have time before now to try my uniform on before now. Since Dad’s been out talking with Duke Goneril, I’m the chief healer, at least for now.”

“Oh?” Lorenz leans back next to Ariadne, turning his head to meet her gaze. “So you’ve had a taste of command recently, and done well?”

Ariadne shrugs, but her grin betrays her modesty. “Maybe. We didn’t lose anyone, even when things proved to be a little more difficult than we expected.”

“I believe Aunt Lydia said something about your quick thinking saving half an injured Battalion,” Lorenz says. “In fact, I would have greeted you sooner had your mother not been going on for so long.”

Ariadne grumbles, covering her face with her hands. “Stars above, it was a week ago. I wish she wouldn’t go on about that!”

“Only a week? Why are you so embarrassed?” Lorenz asks, surprise coloring his voice. “You deserve to relish in this, at least a little! You’ve earned as much.”

She draws her fingers into fists just enough to uncover her eyes. There’s no proper way to address how unease twists in her gut. “I know. I still just… you know.”

Lorenz sighs, nudging his shoulder to Ariadne’s. “My dear cousin, the cruelty of the School of Sorcery is behind us. I doubt any of those ill-mannered, foul-mouthed hooligans could even pass the entrance exams.”

“Nastiness doesn’t preclude intelligence.”

“In some respects it most certainly does,” Lorenz argues. “Garreg Mach won’t be like that. The Officer’s Academy is the most difficult school to get into, and their grades most certainly did not make the cut. They will not follow us. Won’t follow _you_.”

Ariadne smiles weakly, letting her hands fall away wholly. “I just don’t want it to happen again.”

Lorenz takes Ariadne’s shoulder in his hand. “It will not. And if it does, I will not allow it to continue. There is a very strict code of conduct at the Officer’s Academy and I am not above reminding others of it.”

She deflates somewhat into her mattress, tired and worn around the edges. “Thanks, Lorenz.”

He shakes his head. “It’s no trouble, I assure you. The only attention you’ll get is that of other healers clamoring for advice.”

Ariadne laughs. “Mm, that makes me wonder if Professor Manuela will lead the Golden Deer this year.”

“That’s right,” Lorenz hums. “She’s an accomplished healer. I keep forgetting.”

“I mean,” Ariadne says, “even if she doesn’t take charge of our house, it’ll still be a hell of an opportunity to study under her.”

“Very true,” Lorenz agrees. “I look forward to seeing what I can learn from her as well.”

Ariadne’s nerves settle more than they have in a long time. “So… When do we set out?”

Lorenz’s smile is warm and kind, and maybe a little tired out. “The carriage should be here come morning. Breakfast first, then we’ll depart for new opportunities.”

“Perfect,” Ariadne says. She holds up her hand. “To starting over?”

Lorenz takes it, squeezing. “To new beginnings.”


	2. Triangle Formation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ariadne begins to get used to the Officers' Academy, and makes two new friends.

Garreg Mach is huge, Ariadne thinks. It’s all ivory spires and lush greenery, holy people of various ranks bustling about as the spring sets in.

It’s warmer than Fhirdiad was. She appreciates this more than she can properly say, coming from southern Alliance lands. Lorenz is far more tolerant of cooler temperatures than she is. It’ll be a relief to study when she’s not freezing her fingers off. Her fire magic still isn’t as precise as she needs it to be to be limited to warming her hands.

The sun feels nice on her face, so she stops and sits on the stone railing overlooking the greenhouse. In two hours the sun would rest on the fishing pond, and the warmth will recede. Ariadne decides to absorb all the warmth she can take.

“Wow. Has anyone ever told you that you look absolutely gorgeous when the sun hits your hair like that?”

Ariadne turns her head. A tall, red-headed young man has taken up residence beside her. He leans on the railing with an easy posture and a signature “Noble impressing someone” smile. She raises her eyebrows at him.

“Oh? No, that’s a new one,” she says.

“I’m surprised. You look divine, you know.” He layers on a practiced breathless tone. “Easily one of the prettiest girls at the Academy.”

Ariadne takes a deep breath. Redhead here sounds an awful lot like some of the boys back in Fhirdiad who were hopeful for a connection. Ariadne slides off the railing. Well, what would nip this in the bud if he’s really only after her Crest…?

“I mean, I know I’m no slouch, but I’ve bumped into Dorothea and Mercedes earlier today. And you’ve seen them, right?” Ariadne says. “They got my heart pounding in my chest on sight. Not to mention the Imperial Princess. She moves with such grace she nearly took my breath away when I first saw her.”

The redhead’s smile quirks oddly at the corners. “Ah, but they’re nothing compared to you.”

Ariadne snorts. “Do you need your eyes checked, honey?”

“I mean, they _are_ gorgeous. They’re just gorgeous in a different way, you know?” The redhead says. “You have your own unique kind of beauty.”

“Hmm.” Ariadne puts a finger to her lips. “The kind of beauty that might get any of them to fall for me, you think?”

The redhead’s eyes widen a bit, but then he settles back down into an easy gaze. “Oh yeah, definitely. You could probably get anybody in the Monastery to fall at your feet if you wanted ‘em to. Girls and guys alike.”

Ariadne laughs. Now that’s kind of surprising. “Guess it’s just down to getting to know everyone then, seeing who I like best.”

He studies her face, brown eyes zipping from her eyes to her mouth to the little crease between her eyebrows. Huh. Ariadne wonders if he’s being groomed for a political position, what with the way he’s weighing his reply in his head.

“Mm, guess it is then,” he says. “I can help with that, if you’d like. I know enough about the ladies around here to give you some insight. Hey, have you had dinner yet?”

Ariadne shakes her head. “Not yet, no. Are you offering?”

The redhead tilts his head. “Depends. Would you say yes if I was?”

“Sure,” she says. “Name’s Ariadne, by the way. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Sylvain,” he replies. “Sylvain Jose Gautier, and I assure you the pleasure is all mine.”

*

Ariadne twirls her training sword in her hand, angling it back as she holds her other hand out against the dummy’s chest. She practices the maneuver twice more, an attempt at refinement. Well, the best she could get without launching a spell and decimating the straw-filled dummy.

“What exactly are you trying to accomplish?” comes a voice from behind her. “Shoving like that’s pointless, unless you want a broken arm.”

Ariadne shifts the sword back into her dominant hand. “Less so if you call down a thunder spell.”

“That assumes you’re fast enough.”

Ariadne sighs, turning around. “Why do you think I’m practicing?”

A boy with long, black hair and a severe expression watches her from a few feet away. His gaze is sharp from where he stands with his arms crossed. He eyes her up, studying the way she stands at rest. Then he picks up the sword wedged in his belt.

“Spar with me,” he says.

Ariadne raises her eyebrows. She takes a good look at her would-be opponent. He’s not any taller than her, but he’s lean. He might be stronger, but he’s definitely faster if she’s reading his posture right. This strikes her as a losing battle.

“I’m more of a mage than a swordsman,” Ariadne says. “Knowing that, you still interested?”

“I could tell that much,” he replies, all bite. “You’re not going to get what you need with a stationary dummy.”

Ariadne draws her sword, just the slightest hint of spite building up in her gut. “How magnanimous of you, friend.”

“Felix,” he corrects.

“Felix,” she repeats. “I’m Ariadne. Rules?”

Felix squints at her. “Handicaps, you mean?”

“Well, do you want me to zap your ass with lightning?” Ariadne counters.

Felix smirks, holding his arms out before getting back into a better posture. “Come at me with everything you’ve got. If I feel like it I’ll give you some pointers.”

“Oh,” Ariadne cackles, “bait taken. You’re gonna be glad I know white magic after this is done.”

Felix is fast, Ariadne finds. He is near as fast as Ariadne’s casting and tricky to land a hit on. The best she can manage for a while is a swipe at his thigh and a cast that grazes his shoulder. She evades more hits than she anticipates, which she counts as a win.

He slams the sword against her shoulder hard enough to send her stumbling, and then she lifts her hand up and casts. She modifies the formulae just enough to keep it from causing Felix too much damage, but it’s enough to give him a nasty shock and send him kneeling.

He grunts and coughs, and she presses the wooden blade gently at the side of his neck.

“Checkmate?” Ariadne asks.

Felix snorts. “Alright, fine. I concede. You’re not half bad, Ariadne.”

“Same to you, Felix,” she says, tossing the sword and offering a hand. “You were right, I wasn’t gonna get what I needed from a dummy.”

Felix’s mouth quirks up at one side. He lets Ariadne pull him up. “Let’s do this again sometime. I’m not used to fighting someone using magic and a blade with that kind of timing.”

“Sure, if you’re willing to help me get better at close quarters. Never know when you’re gonna need to deck someone. Critical weakness of a lot of mages.”

He laughs at that. “Hah! You’re not wrong about that. Though I could tell you were going easy on me with that Thunder.”

“It’s not like I’d want to give my new sparring partner nerve damage.”

“Right.”

*

“…You know, while I appreciate you setting me up with Dorothea yesterday, I really wish you hadn’t made yourself the bad guy in the situation,” Ariadne sighs.

Sylvain shrugs from his seat in the Blue Lions classroom. “But compared to me you were a dream, weren’t you? Just what she needed. Bet she’s thinking about you in a whole different light now.”

Ariadne grumbles and sits down next to him. “I don’t know if I should be angry or just sad about that, Sylvain.”

Sylvain raises an eyebrow. “Sad?”

“I didn’t think you were into Dorothea, but you completely threw away any good standing you had with her,” Ariadne says. “For what? So I’d get a better shot at dating her?”

Sylvain is suddenly very interested in his notes on command. “Just want to help you get what you want.”

“Yeah, and if it means destroying yourself in the process maybe I _don’t_ want this.”

Sylvain turns his head completely away, pretending to be interested in the person walking through the door. He doesn’t have to pretend for long, though.

“Felix!” Sylvain greets, avoiding Ariadne’s statement entirely.

Ariadne pats Sylvain’s shoulder. “We’re not done talking about this.”

“So that’s why you didn’t show up.” Felix raises an eyebrow at the pair. “You two know each other?”

Sylvain blinks. “Every girl here knows me.”

“Yes, and they stay away from you because of that,” Felix says. “Which makes her being here a complete anomaly.”

Ariadne sighs out her nose. “Felix.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Sylvain says with a wave of his hand. “That’s just how he is. But really, how do you two know each other?”

“We’re sparring partners,” Felix answers. “Have been for about a month now. And you? Are you going to give a real answer?”

“Well-”

“He didn’t run away when I started talking about girls, so I decided to stick around,” Ariadne says. “Usually that scares the Noble-types off.”

Sylvain feigns shock, slapping a hand to his chest. “Ariadne. Don’t tell me that’s the only reason you said that.”

Ariadne pinches the bridge of her nose, but she laughs at Sylvain’s gesture. “It isn’t. I wasn’t lying, it’s just the first litmus test. If that’s something that’d send you running away screaming, then I wouldn’t want to know you.”

Confusion settles on Sylvain’s face like a person settling into their favorite chair, quickly and completely. He opens his mouth to say something, but then stops. He tries again, but with no better luck.

Felix smirks. “Huh. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Sylvain speechless.”

There is something decidedly sharp in the redhead’s gaze as he collects his notes into a pile. “Felix, you still wanna train together?”

Deflecting again. Ariadne does her best not to grumble at this, worrying for her new friend’s well-being.

“I do,” Felix replies. “Ariadne, care to join us?”

Tension builds in Sylvain’s shoulders. Ariadne wonders if it’s a good idea to push. She doesn’t have any more lectures to attend today, nor does she have any remaining work that needs to get done, but she doesn’t want to overstay her welcome.

Felix meets her gaze while Sylvain is trying not to look anywhere. Expectance nests around his eyes, but there’s something like a question tucked up in his irises and the curve of his mouth.

_Sylvain is acting strange. What are you going to do about it?_

“I’m free as a bird,” she says. “So, sure. I’d be happy to tag along.”

Felix nods. Good. Then she’s made the right decision.

“Not every day Felix invites somebody to come along,” Sylvain says. “Guess you’ve got something pretty unique up your sleeve, Ari.”

Ariadne shrugs. “Nothing more unique than either of you have.”

Maybe things really will be different from Fhirdiad.


	3. Blinding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miklan tries to kill Sylvain one last time. Ariadne won't let him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I heard somewhere that Sylvain has the lowest Dex stat. That got me thinking about his eyesight, and then the potential drawbacks of Crests. Dragon Blood affects everyone differently after all.

Rancid smoke wafts through the air as Miklan disintegrates back into his human form. The only traces left of the beast he became are the lance in his hand and the damage to the walls and floor. The body lays still, unbreathing. Gilbert takes the Lance of Ruin, untangling it from Miklan’s grip.

Sylvain collapses to his knees, only held upright by his lance. No one stands even moderately near him. His eyes are wide and unfocused, and his knuckles are white.

One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Ariadne runs over to the redhead before her mind can get the better of her. Sylvain looks up at the sound, but his eyes are still unfocused. Ariadne kneels in front of him.

“Hey,” Ariadne says. “You hurting anywhere?”

His eyes are still far away, but he smiles. It’s far more broken than his standard fare. “Nothing a kiss won’t fix.”

“Bullshit,” Ariadne replies. “The monster took a swipe at you. I know you got hit.”

Sylvain stiffens then. “…Is it over, then?”

Ariadne blinks, then gestures off to her right. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s over. Miklan’s lying in a heap over there.”

“Oh.” Sylvain doesn’t turn his head. His eyes don’t even focus on her, or anyone else.

“Sylvain?”

“Yeah?”

Ariadne waves her hand in front of his face. No reaction, just the same unfocused look as before. Ariadne sucks in a breath and begins conjuring a healing spell. He doesn’t even react to the light of the formulae taking shape in the air.

“Did you hit your head?” she asks.

“No, why?”

“Cause you’re not seeing a damned thing,” Ariadne says. She stretches up to get a better look, but despite it all there’s no blood in Sylvain’s hair. Not even much of Conand Tower’s dust had gotten into it.

Sylvain laughs, but it’s broken and only half-right. “You noticed.”

“Damn right I did,” Ariadne says. “What happened?”

“Each Crest has a drawback, Ari,” Sylvain says. “Use the Crest of Gautier too much and temporary blindness is pretty likely.”

“Ah, shit…” Ariadne sighs. “So that’s Gautier’s drawback.”

“Yeah. Usually I can get away with it and nobody notices.”

“How long does it last?”

“Give me an hour and I’ll be able to get away with it with nobody the wiser.” Sylvain shifts his grip. “And they’ll attribute this to shock. Which, they won’t be wrong.”

Ariadne’s shoulders droop as she finishes off a round of Recover. “Oh, Sylvain…”

At the slightest hint of sympathy Sylvain grimaces. “Don’t get me wrong, I hate him. Ari, is he… You said it was over, but is he really dead?”

Ariadne feels cold, too cold. She smells that awful stench again and sees gauntlets clattering around Sylvain’s neck, as though about to squeeze. Even in death, Miklan isn’t going to leave him alone. She pulls Sylvain out of the ghost’s grip, forward into her shoulder, and vents white magic energy.

Miklan curses, but he disintegrates before Ariadne can hear what he’s saying. It’s for the best, she decides.

“Yeah, he’s gone. Dead and gone. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

Sylvain shakes in her arms. “Who said he-? Ari, I’m- I’m fine.”

But Ariadne knows better. His spear falls ungracefully out of his arms as he leans into her, hitting the floor with a metallic ‘tang’.

“He never threw anything at me I couldn’t handle,” Sylvain says. “No matter how many times he tried to- I always-”

Ariadne runs her fingers through his hair. “It’s over now. You’re safe.”

Sylvain grips her shoulders tight. It’s a desperate effort to make the trembling seem like an excess of force rather than what it really is, sorrow and fear and trauma. His breath whistles out from between his teeth as he exhales slow.

“Wonder if he’ll haunt me,” Sylvain murmurs.

“He won’t.”

He gives a bitter laugh. “How do you know?”

Ariadne freezes. What can she say to that, really? There is no graceful way to say ‘the spirit of your dead brother tried to strangle you and I incinerated him for it.’

“I took care of it already,” Ariadne says. “He will never touch you again.”

Sylvain lifts his head. He still can’t see, and judges where Ari’s eyes are by bracing one of his hands near her neck. “How?”

Ariadne sighs, shutting her eyes. “Major Crest of Gloucester.”

Sylvain sounds as though the wind’s been knocked out of him. “No shit, really?”

“House Heddwyn’s an offshoot family,” Ariadne explains. “And Gloucester’s drawback is a second sight.”

“So, he…”

“Miklan’s gone. I _made_ him go.”

Shit. She’s going to regret saying that.

“Why?” he asks.

Does she say it? Does she hide it? She’s already tripped over herself this much, how much more damage could she really do?

“He looked like he was gonna hurt you,” she explains. “So I made him leave.”

“Fucking hell. Even when he’s dead-”

“I said I made him leave. I did. And now he’s going to sit, banished from this world and into the next, where he can’t touch you. He’ll never be able to interact with you again so long as you _live_.”

Sylvain stills. An uncomfortable quiet blankets the both of them as soldiers begin to shuffle out of the tower. He holds onto Ariadne as though she might slip out of his fingers if he let go. Faerghus men take comfort in having a firm grip on their weapon, but Sylvain never makes a motion to retrieve his lance.

“If that’s really the case,” Sylvain says quietly, “then… Then I owe you a date, I guess.”

Ariadne tries her best to smile. “That’s as good an excuse as any to get out of here, don’t you think?”

He opens his mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. He reconsiders, sitting back on his heels. “…Yeah. Sounds good. I’ll treat you to dinner when we get back.”

“Alright,” Ariadne says.

She stands up slow, and Sylvain lets go of her shoulders. He sits there, face falling, until Ariadne takes his hands and pulls. He makes a small surprised noise, but that’s all it takes to get him to his feet. She pulls one arm gently over her shoulders.

“I’ve got you,” she says.

His eyes start to come back into focus. “…Yeah. Thanks.”


	4. Familiarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix remembers his brother, and Ariadne listens.

Felix sparks some static between himself and Ariadne, pushing her just backward enough that he can press the training sword to her throat. She laughs, bright and alive as she moves the wooden blade off herself.

“That’s checkmate, then,” she says. “You’re getting good at timing your magic.”

“Once I learned the formula it got easier to call,” Felix says.

Ariadne nods, placing her sword in her belt. “And it’ll get even easier the more you do it. Magic doesn’t have to be just distance work. Not much anyone can do about taking a Thoron to the face.”

Felix snorts in reply as he sheathes his sword. He twists his arm wrong, though, and winces. Damn, it’s been three days since that mission and the soreness still isn’t gone? He’s used to stubborn pain, used to getting through it and pushing beyond, but it always sours his mood.

Ariadne is quick, though, and takes his shoulder. “Hey, let me see.”

“I’m fine.”

“Bullshit. You’re favoring that arm, and I don’t want you going easy on me,” Ariadne says. “Let me see.”

Felix rolls his eyes, but extends his arm out to her. There is no argument when it comes to Ariadne Cerys Heddwyn and healing. Always gentle, but always firm.

She pushes up his sleeve, revealing a long bruise. “Oh, Felix.”

“It’s nothing, Ari,” he sighs.

One hand holds his wrist in place, while the other hovers just above the offending soreness. “Don’t try to be tough, Fe. Poor thing, this looks like it’s been nagging you for a while.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

“That’s no reason to hide it,” Ariadne sighs. “Suffering in silence doesn’t help anyone.”

Felix opens his mouth to reply, but an unexpected lump in his throat stops him. In less than an instant he’s ten years old again, and Glenn is fretting over a training injury. Felix doesn’t understand why Glenn is so worried over something so small, but he holds Felix’s wrist still as magic starts to work the bruise away. Felix gapes.

“I didn’t know you study _white_ magic, too!” is what little Felix says to his brother, all shock and wonder.

He doesn’t realize he’s spoken the words out loud until Ariadne puts her hand where the bruise once was. Felix lifts his head as the training grounds come back into focus. Ariadne looks at him, brown eyes bearing worry that he thinks is too heavy for her to even try to lift.

“Felix?” Ariadne asks. “You alright? Looks like you were somewhere else just now.”

He turns his face away from her. What he wouldn’t give for Ariadne to quip at him, repurpose one of Sylvain’s horrible jokes maybe, or warn him not to get distracted. Ariadne just keeps a firm grip on his wrist, though, with her other hand soft and warm on his elbow.

“Felix,” Ariadne says. “Can I help?”

“It’s just memories,” Felix replies in a rush of air. “Nothing special.”

Ariadne is gentle as she pulls his sleeve back down, but she doesn’t let go of his hand. “Alright, I won’t make you tell me. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen your face like that.”

Felix frowns. “Like what?”

“Surprised, but happy at the same time. Unrestrained.” Ariadne’s smile is soft, too soft. Felix doesn’t understand how a smile so soft can cut down to bone. “You hide stuff like that a lot, you know.”

“I was reminded of my brother,” Felix says. “That’s all.”

“Glenn, right?” Ariadne asks. “He studied some magic, I take it.”

Felix sighs out his nose, pulling his hand out of Ariadne’s grip to sit down on the floor. “He studied black magic mostly, and swordsmanship first and foremost. He caught me off guard one day by healing me.”

She sits down next to him. “Smart of him to broaden his magical horizons. Never know when you’re gonna be the closest thing to a healer your squad has.”

Felix swears he can feel the cool breeze of Fhirdiad. “He said something like that once. I think it was that same day.”

Ariadne nods in approval. “A regular pragmatist then. Sounds like he’d have a good temperament to be a secondary healer, if he’d wanted.”

“He’d use magic in conjunction with sword strikes, a lot like you do now that I think about it.” Felix stares at his hands then. “Thunder magic, too. He always liked that variety, Thunder and Thoron.”

“So that’s why you were so interested in learning those specific spells.” Ariadne turns. “And now, it’s kind of like you have a part of him with you when you fight.”

There’s a choking sound that rings through the training ground. Felix doesn’t realize that it’s him until Ariadne pulls him flush against her. He bites his tongue to keep any other sounds at bay as his vision starts to blur.

“Oh, Felix,” Ariadne says into his hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

He grips her arms hard. “Don’t. Just don’t.”

Ariadne’s chest trembles as he sinks into her. She holds him with arms tighter than he’s felt in a while. The last time he can remember feeling this pressure was back in Fhirdiad, when his mother clutched at her remaining son for dear life.

Ariadne rubs his back, though, tracing tiny patterns that he lines his breathing up with. It’s different this time. Ariadne is humming something soft and sweet in his ear, something better to fill the air with than the sobs Felix is trying to bury in his throat.

“I’m right here,” she says. “What can I do?”

His nose nests against her throat. “You- you can keep any thoughts about his ‘noble sacrifice’ to yourself, if you have them.”

Ariadne shivers, but only holds him tighter. “I- Oh, Fe.”

“I don’t want to hear it. Dying isn’t noble. It’s just an end.”

“You’re right,” she says.

When Felix looks up at Ariadne, she wears that same worry from before. Anger has started to thread its way into her irises, like a patch of embroidery, but she does her best to yank those threads out when he meets her gaze. It leaves holes in her eyes, showing a secondhand set of sorrow.

“You…” he breathes.

“If anyone says something of that variety again, tell them to come see me. I’ll set them straight,” she says. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that.”

He leans back into her shoulder, gritting his teeth. Felix’s words hiss out between the cracks. “I… I loved him more than anything, Ari. I wanted to be just like him.”

“I’m so sorry this happened, Fe.”

“There was so much I wanted to tell him,” he says. “I miss him. I have to keep going, but-”

She runs her fingers through his hair. “Fe, just… let it out. You don’t have to be the strong one all the time, okay? I’ll have your back until you’re ready to get back up again. And each time you need to breathe afterward.”

Felix slumps in her arms, voice breaking. He speaks barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”


	5. These Ghosts, Our Ghosts

There is nothing worse than this, Ariadne decides. She hoists her robes up as she hops over a mangled root. She is sore and tired, Sylvain had needed to retreat, and Felix was just _gone_. He may be a lone wolf, but this is all wrong. Felix's sense of direction is second only to Petra's, and she'd returned thirty minutes ago. The battle wore them all down, yes, but this...

Lore asked everyone who was able to search. Even she’s scared. Lore Eisner, the very picture of calm, the one who knows every strike before it even lands. Lore’s frantic expression haunts the back of Ariadne's mind

"Better not be a death knell," she mutters as she clambers over a patch of rock, “Or, I swear…”

There are bloodstains beneath her palms that she doesn't want to notice. She is not faithful to Sothis, but she finds herself thinking of how the Blue Sea Star guided her home once when she was lost. She should not hope for the darkness of night, not now, but the star had guided her to where she was needed.

But no. The bright white of a Stark overcast sky reminds her the day is still far too young for this.

Ariadne curses under her breath. "Damnit, Felix. Please just-"

A shout cuts Ariadne's thoughts short. It’s a sharp, howling noise cut between human teeth. It's not the sound the wounded make, but the nearly bereaved. When she turns her head she sees a tall young man in Academy dress. Tall, so, not Felix. The shock of long, black hair was far too familiar, though.

No, Rodrigue isn't that young. And why would Rodrigue be here, anyway?

"Please, I need help!" The man cried. "My brother is badly hurt! Please! If you can, _please_ -!"

Ariadne's heart freezes for a second before she changes course for the young man with a howl in his lungs. She mouths a silent prayer to the Blue Sea Star, asking it for time.

"Oh-! Thank the Goddess I got your attention!" The man says. "He's through the grove here. I've been trying to find someone- anyone-"

"You found the right person," she replies. "I'm a decent healer. I can help him."

The man breathes like half the world slipped off his shoulders. "Wonderful."

The pit in Ariadne's stomach only grows, though. Time is always so short, after all.

"How many people passed you by, do you think?" Ariadne ventures.

The man shakes his head. "At least five. None of them so much as stopped."

Ariadne sucks in a breath. Felix isn't the type to simply run past. None of them are. Not the Golden Deer, not the Blue Lions, and not even the Black Eagles. The situation is strange as it turns itself over in her mind.

"Was- was one of them a young man about my height? With dark hair and a tired look about him?"

The man raises an eyebrow despite the anxious turn of his mouth. "No one like that passed by, why?"

"A dear friend of mine, Felix. He's- he's missing." Ariadne's voice argues with her as she speaks. "He should have returned to camp by now, but he _hasn't._ "

"Is that who everyone is looking for?"

"Yes. The whole class is looking for him. Probably the people who passed you by, too." Ariadne feels a chill run down her spine. "You're in academy attire. You're part of the class, too, right?"

The man bites his tongue, then a strange mix of sadness and fear shows in his eyes. "Well. That's complicated."

"A transfer?" Ariadne asks, mostly to fill the air. "Your gait says Faerghus, so, Blue Lion class? But, wait, how do you not know about Felix then?"

"You care for Felix, don't you?"

Ariadne wavers. "I do. I, uh, I don't want to lose him. That's why after I heal your brother I'm going back to the search."

The man looks away at Ariadne's words, silent until his shoulders stiffen and he reaches for Ariadne's arm.

"Here-! We're here. He's right here."

Ariadne would have doubted the man for his hesitation at her intentions, but she has no time. The figure sprawled on the ground has a few gouges through his academy uniform, tracing deep into the skin. His long, dark hair fans out against the mud and torn up grass. The blade Ariadne had gifted him a few weeks prior lay just off his left side.

" _Felix!_ " Ariadne's howl is loud enough and raw enough to wake the dead, but Felix doesn't stir.

She kneels down next to him, hands flat on his chest as she summons all the healing energy she has. She forces it out of her fingertips in waves, wishing to that star of hers that she wouldn't feel the kickback of trying to heal a dead person. All she feels is the thrum of his heartbeat, however, and a trembling breath pushes past her lips.

She brushes some hair out of Felix's face, watching as the magic begins to sew the wounds shut. "Damnit, Fe. You gotta stop scaring me like this."

The man gives an awful, broken sounding laugh. Ariadne, in her rush for Felix, had forgotten he was even there. She looks back up at him and notices the same tired air Felix often has. The small lines by the bridge of his nose, the quirk of his mouth to one side, the slight wave in his hair...

Ariadne remembers Felix saying how he and Glenn looked so much like their father, like Rodrigue. She knows Felix hates it, but her mind spirals around this fact. She remembers that night at the training ground, when Felix has first told her about Glenn. When she had first seen him cry. When she first held him in her arms...

She looks to the mysterious man's eyes. He watches Felix instead of her, fighting tears himself.

"You, um. Felix is your brother?" Ariadne asks.

The man looks at her then, really looks. The half-recognition strikes down Ariadne's spine as he smiles like Rodrigue.

"He is. He's my little brother."

"Are... Are you Glenn?"

There is warmth in Glenn's sigh, in the arch of his eyebrows and the sad way his forehead pinches together. Felix stirs, reaching in his brother's direction. Glenn rests his hand over Felix's, running his thumb across Felix's knuckles.

"He misses you terribly," Ariadne says. "He may not express it well, but never doubt that he loves you."

Glenn makes a choking sound as he bites his tongue. So this is how Felix learned how to hold back a wail.

"How lucky he is, to have found someone who understands him." Glenn says. "You'll watch over my brother for me, won't you?"

Glenn places his other hand on Ariadne's, where it rests on Felix's chest. She can't lift her hand without breaking the healing contact, but she makes a compromise in lifting her pinky and bending it somewhat awkwardly over Glenn's own.

"I promise you. I'll keep him safe."

Glenn's smile is bittersweet. He bends down to press a kiss to Felix's forehead. "You'll be alright now, Fe."

In less than a blink Glenn is gone and Felix is upright, crashing into Ariadne. He latches onto her shoulder and throws his other arm forward, desperate and chasing.

"Glenn!" He cries, voice broken in ways Ariadne has only heard once before.

"Fe, hey," she says, pulling him closer.

He gasps through a sob, and Ariadne can feel his nails clawing at her back. "I- I _heard_ him. He was- he was right here, talking. To _you_."

"I know, Fe."

"Was I dreaming?"

Ariadne pulls back just enough to look into Felix's tired, worn-down eyes. "If you were dreaming, so was I."

His lips tremble. Felix grips Ariadne's arm like a lifeline. "You saw him."

"I did," she says. "Everyone's looking for you. He flagged me down, saying his brother was hurt. I didn't know who he was at first, not until he led me to you."

"He- you-" Felix can't get the words out from around the lump in his throat.

"He's watching over you, Fe. And he loves you so much."

Felix's face collides with Ariadne's shoulder as he bellows his sorrow, something that has been strangled and bottled since a very long day four years prior. Ariadne just holds him tighter, becoming as much of a haven as Felix will allow.

"I got you, Fe. It's alright. I'm here."


	6. To Guide, To Lead Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude comes across Ariadne praying, but not to the Goddess. Curiosity gets the better of him.

By all accounts, Ariadne seems like the devout type of person. Claude has caught her praying enough times that he figures she’s just as devoted as the rest of Fodlan.

But if that’s the case, why was she out on the bridge instead of at evening mass?

The blond has her face turned towards the sky instead of ducked down in piety, though her hands are clasped in the traditional Fodlan prayer gesture. Odd, for somebody who could probably mount a hostile takeover through religious devotion. Her Major Crest was a problem for House Gloucester after all.

Curiosity nips at Claude just a little too much. He walks up beside Ariadne Cerys Heddwyn and gazes up in the same direction she’s gazing in. The stars are beginning to come out, and the Blue Sea Star shines like a beacon through the sunset sky. Claude knows that was where the goddess of Fodlan supposedly lives, but he hasn’t seen anyone praying quite the same way Ariadne is now.

She opens one eye, gazing at him out of the corner of it. Her mouth quirks up at one side. “Hey, Claude.”

“Took you long enough to notice,” he teases. “What’re you doing all the way out here? So close to the Cathedral and yet you aren’t going inside? Don’t tell me you’re being scandalous and praying to another god.”

Ariadne snorts, breaking her prayer and leaning against the railing to get a better look at him. “Ha, it’s nothing quite as interesting as that.”

“Oh? Try me, friend.”

“Well…” Ariadne begins, then stops. She squints at him just a little, appraising him. “I suppose I can tell you without things getting complicated.”

Claude offers a chuckle, leaning in closer. “You certainly know how to make the uninteresting sound pretty interesting.”

“Oh, don’t get your hopes up too high,” Ariadne says. “It’s just that my relationship to the Goddess is personal. No chapel or cathedral in the world would be the right place to communicate with her.”

Claude tilts his head. Not very Fodlan of Ariadne, that’s for sure.

“Oh? Why’s that?” He asks.

“It’s not so much a relationship with the Goddess as it is with the Blue Sea Star,” Ariadne explains. She turns and points up at the star in question. “I don’t pray to the Goddess directly, but to that star. Not something most people in Fodlan do, I know.”

“You can say that again,” Claude replies.

Ariadne looks back up at the star, shimmering against the darkening sky. “I know you’re pretty _open minded._ If you weren’t you, I wouldn’t have told you this much.”

The way she stresses the words is a blatant reminder, really. Claude knows that Ariadne is a curious one, thinking on her feet and making quick connections. They’ve talked about this before without really talking about it, but this is an especially interesting development. Trusting him with something _because_ he’s not from Fodlan?

“Well, I’m honored by your trust,” he says. “Can I ask why the star, and not the Goddess herself?”

She thinks for a moment, eyebrows drawing into a little steeple on her face. The twist of her mouth declares it more a personal issue than scandal now.

“Sure,” she concedes. “I can tell you. Just don’t go around mentioning it to people.”

Claude laughs, patting her arm. “You don’t even _need_ to ask that much. I figure it’s a fair trade. You’re keeping a secret for me, too, you know.”

Ariadne raises an eyebrow. There’s a tiny inkling of satisfaction on her face, though she keeps it at bay for the most part. The thrill of confirmation versus the desire to keep said secret, well, secret. Claude knows the feeling well enough.

“The story goes like this,” Ariadne starts. “I was about eight, and I got lost in a forest on Heddwyn land. It was dark and terrifying, I must have walked for miles, but I couldn’t find my way out.”

Claude bites his lip. Not quite what he’d been expecting. “No one came to get you?”

Ariadne sighs. “They tried, I think, but keep in mind I was tiny _and_ a moving target.”

Her words unsettle him in a familiar way. Moving target? That doesn’t sound much like the subject of a rescue operation. That sounds a little more like something he’s familiar with, part of why he’s wary of others.

“Fair enough,” he says.

“I thought there were monsters. I was hungry and cold, I thought I might die there,” Ariadne explains. “But through the trees, shining bright just like the moon, was the Blue Sea Star. I knew she always pointed north when she was in the sky.”

“Ah, so she was your way-finder.”

Ariadne nods, a real smile breaking out on her face after all the nerves. “Yes. And I spoke with her the whole time. Not to the Goddess, but to the star. Lo and behold, I was back home way before sunrise.”

Maybe it should be a relief that Ariadne managed to thwart any would-be killers. Claude thinks about Ariadne’s potential claim to House Gloucester’s seat at the Alliance Roundtable, and he thinks about just how skeptical Count Gloucester is of surprises in the form of strangers.

Maybe Claude and Ariadne have more in common than he originally thought.

“So, whenever I need time or guidance, I ask her for help.” Ariadne continues. “I speak with her. Maybe she listens, maybe she doesn’t, but it helps keep me grounded. If dumb luck strikes, I thank her.”

Claude nods. “I see what you’re saying.”

Ariadne breathes out in relief. “I thought you might.”

Well, if there’s anyone he can have this discussion with, it’s Ariadne. It’s refreshing, really, with how rigid Fodlan really is.

“Y’know,” he ventures. “Your view isn’t all that different from views outside of Fodlan. From what I’ve heard, at least.”

Ariadne turns back toward Claude, a knowing grin on her face. “Is that right?”

“It’s not anything you’ll find in the library,” Claude said, stretching his arms out behind his head. “But if you ever push east, you’ll find people with relationships like that with nature.”

There’s something softer in Ariadne’s face at that. “I see. Maybe I will then, if Fodlan gets less… isolationist.”

“ _When_ it gets less isolationist,” Claude corrects. “Change is gonna come. Maybe slowly, but it will.”

She grins at that. “Yeah, you’re right. With you at the head of the Alliance, I’m sure of it.”


	7. Calm Waters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a hard battle, Felix worries after a certain healer who's known to push herself. Post-Timeskip.

If there is anything Ariadne should be doing, it certainly is not fussing over others in the post-battle haze. Her hair is still matted with blood, and yet her gaze never falters from the others of their group. She smooths down Hilda's shirt after healing a gash, and is about to make for Caspar and the scratches on his leg when Felix grabs her arm. She sways in gentle resistance, but Felix's stubborn grip declares that no, he’s not going to let her collapse.

Falling over in exhaustion has not crossed Ariadne’s mind, but it weighs on Felix. It pulls at the tension in his shoulders as he makes to move her closer and trap her in his arms. She huffs against his neck and flails her hands weakly at his chest.

"Fe, come on," she whines.

"Stop."

"Look, I need to-"

" _Stop_ ," Felix repeats. "You have nothing left."

Her brown eyes narrow up at him as she leans back. It's a silent demand for him to move his arms. He locks them behind the small of her back, tight enough that she could lean all her weight on him and not worry about falling. She sighs out her nose. This is not what she meant, but there is no convincing Felix now.

"Stop," he says again.

She gives in this time, leaning on his shoulder. Her chin rests near his pulse, and he shifts to begin combing the bloody mess out of her hair.

"Look that shitty, huh?" She asks.

"Yes," Felix says on an exhale, as though it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Ariadne lets out a bitter, oddly-shaped cackle as she wraps her own arms around Felix's shoulders. He pulls a few strands of her hair apart and she grasps gently at the back of his neck. For a moment he lets his desire for calm overcome him and shuts his eyes. Ariadne smells like dirt and blood, sure, but the slight tones of cinnamon and coffee still cling to her robes from breakfast. He takes deep breaths, focusing on that instead of anything else.

"Sorry for worrying you."

Her voice startles him out of reverie. He doesn't say anything, but leans in to press their foreheads together.

"You need a bath," he says.

Her laugh tickles his ears as she lightly swats at his arm, warm and soft with a hint of joy. "Like you don't?"

That's better, he thinks. She palms the sides of his face and squishes his cheeks lightly.

"Next chance we get," he says, "join me?"

"Sure."


	8. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Small details of their lives that no one seems to notice, yet are absolutely everything.

There is a certain way that Sylvain loves Ariadne. It's a secret from nearly everyone else, since they don't look long enough to notice.

Sylvain hooks his arm around Ariadne's shoulder as they walk, and Ariadne leans into his ribs. It's a tiny ward on the redhead's part, and Ariadne lets him cast it. She relaxes as he makes a passing joke. He makes an ugly sort of snort and she giggles, swatting at his arm before adding her own raunchy comment and surprising a smattering of chuckles out of the redhead.

If not for the gentle thrum of people coming and going, one might assume this is s moment behind closed doors. There is no need for a wall, so Sylvain leans some of his weight into Ariadne. She doesn't flinch, or tell him to get off. She only straightens her back and shifts her gait to better support him.

His smile is lopsided, imperfect. He is no poster boy with her, nor is he an antithesis. Sylvain is just Sylvain. There are always bitter traces in Sylvain's laugh, there likely always will be, but it's warmer now than most times he makes the sound.

A passerby wonders if, perhaps, Sylvain counts Ariadne among his lovers.

The answer is yes, of course, but there is only one other besides Ariadne. For the two that see Sylvain as simply himself, he is undyingly, unwaveringly loyal. Only the two that see right through him, even when he would rather they don't. They’re the only ones that refuse to be pushed away.

Ariadne looks up at him just before they reach the training ground, pulling gently in Sylvain's collar so he would meet her halfway. He meets her as he always does, pressing his lips to hers, chasing the closeness she offers even though it isn't running off anywhere.

They're only distracted when Felix tiredly marches out of the grounds and demands their attention by way of refusing to go around. Sylvain teases him, earning a grunt and a quick kiss on the cheek. Felix rests an arm on Ariadne's hips as they turn in synchronous, heading home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to write short fluff sometimes lol;;;;


	9. Class Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix encounters some familiar children at the market. Ariadne joins him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever since I heard that one of Felix's favorite teatime topics is "children at the market" my brain has gone buckwild.

The market is always quiet on Monday mornings, but this time there’s one face missing that Felix finds himself missing. It goes against all logic, really, given how it’s easier to take care of errands without a child bouncing along asking questions. Still, he finds himself thinking of the little girl that had taken an interest in him over the past two months.

Fiora, short brown hair, usually with scraped knees and a toy sword in hand. He doesn’t know her family name. Maybe she doesn’t have one. She’d challenged him to a duel when they first met, and… Well, he couldn’t help but play along. Fiora reminds him a bit of Ingrid when they were younger, before life smacked them upside the head.

He finds himself done with most of his tasks in half the time, but worry nags at the back of his mind. War is cruel, and the town is never completely unaffected. Has something happened to the girl, or her parents? Has she fallen ill? Or perhaps she’s found someone her own size she’d rather duel with? That may be for the best, although a little cord of sadness knotted itself in his heartstrings.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Why does he care so much about one little girl?

Come to think of it, he hasn’t seen any of her friends this morning either…

“So, where to now, oh faithful Knight Captain?” Comes a voice sweet as honey from around the corner. Felix knows that voice better than he knows the back of his own hand.

“Umm…” A familiar, albeit smaller voice hums. “Fish! We need fish next, and then we’ll have everything we need for the feast. An army marches on its stomach, after all!”

Fiora brandishes her toy sword, flanked by Ariadne with a basket full of carrots and turnips. Three of Fiora’s friends assist, carrying bundles and baskets of their own. Fiora carries a sack of apples like a makeshift shield, eyes glittering with enthusiasm.

Ariadne’s smile is all warmth as she looks down at Fiora. Her hair is loose around her shoulders, and threaded with a crown of daisies.

“Oh, of course,” Ariadne says, nodding sagely. “Very wise, my Captain.”

Fiora giggles, lifting her sword up high. “Then, forward!”

The little group cheers, coming fully into view. Fiora gasps on sight of Felix, and Ariadne follows her gaze. While the shock on Fiora’s face is precious in a way Felix can’t entirely put to words, the way Ariadne’s eyes crinkle up at the edges hypnotizes him a bit more than he expects.

“Lieutenant!” Fiora says, pointing her sword in Felix’s direction. “Where have you been?”

Ariadne’s joy starts to spark into worry, and she opens her mouth to say something. Felix beats her to the punch, though, taking a knee and putting a hand over his heart.

“Just seeing to the welfare of our battalions, Captain,” he says.

She giggles at the show of deference, she always has ever since he made a show of it the first time.

Fiora puffs out her chest and tries to make a stern face. She fails miserably. “That is acceptable.”

Suddenly Ariadne’s suppressing a smile of her own, hiding her face behind her hand and trying to stifle a laugh. There’s even a hint of tears in her eyes. She takes a deep breath and composes herself before Fiora turns back toward her, which Felix would consider a commendable effort if he just knew what had made her laugh so damn hard.

“Anyway,” Fiora continues. “Lieutenant, we need your help today. The Princess of Garreg Mach is preparing a feast for everyone! We could use your help.”

Princess of-? Felix stifles a chuckle of his own while Ariadne fights a losing battle against the redness in her cheeks.

Normally Felix is not one for the decorum and stiffness of a knight, but this time he sees an opportunity to make his wife squirm a little. He takes one of Ariadne’s hands in his, kissing her knuckles.

“Anything to assist you, dear princess,” he says, as softly and reverently as he can manage.

There are several delighted “ooohs” from the children, and several different kinds of sheepish sounds making their way out of Ariadne’s throat now that she’s red-faced.

“Fe- er- _Lieutenant_ , my goodness,” Ariadne manages to squeak out. “I- I thank you. Now, ah, we really should get the fish we need.”

“Ah, yes.” Felix grins with just a hint of wickedness as he stands. “Take my arm, the Knight Captain and I shall escort you.”

*

“I take it that was _the_ Fiora,” Ariadne says as she cuts up the carrots. “The one you’ve been going on about for months now?”

Felix nods. “Quite a spitfire, that one.”

“Yeah, she’s adorable. She’s really taking after you, you know.”

“Oh?”

Ariadne chuckles. “She makes the same kind of faces you do.”

Felix shakes his head. “So that’s what you were laughing about.”

“It was just so cute,” she says, patting his arm. “I couldn’t help it.”

“Mm, I don’t know. I think you were the cute one, Ms. Princess of Garreg Mach.”

Ariadne stutters, all giggles as she works on preparing the other vegetables. “You’re not gonna let that go, are you?”

“Never,” Felix replies. “Just wait ‘til Sylvain catches wind.”

She narrowly avoids chopping her finger instead of the turnip. “Now you’re just trying to rile me up.”

“It’s not like either of us gets ammunition to tease you with every day,” Felix says. “And it was very sweet. I can practically _see_ that doe-eyed look of admiration he gets.”

Ariadne hums in response as she works, smiling soft. “That is a nice look on him.”

Felix nods, pressing a kiss to Ariadne’s cheek. “And you always get a nice look on your face when he makes it.”

Ariadne snorts. “That what you’re after?”

“Not quite,” Felix says. He stands behind her now, wrapping his arms around her and leaning into her back.

“Oh? What’s on your mind, then?” She asks. “And be careful if you intend to stick to me like that.”

Felix breathes out slow, nesting in her shoulder. “I’ve just been thinking. You looked so happy with Fiora and her friends.”

Ariadne pauses, tenderness in her voice. “So did you.”

“Perhaps… Sylvain should come with us sometime,” Felix ventures. “See if he’d enjoy it, too.”

“Fe,” she breathes. “Are you saying you’re thinking about what I _think_ you’re thinking about?”

“Clarify, Ari.”

“Are you talking about potentially having kids?”

He squeezes her a little tighter. “After the war, if we’re all in agreement… Yes. I can’t help but find the idea a bit enticing. Being a family.”

“Oh, Fe!”

“No decisions until after the war, though,” he says.

“Well, obviously, but… Fe…”

Ariadne turns in his arms, facing him with such warmth, such magnetism. Felix leans forward into her, closing the distance between them. She is soft and sweet, as she always is.

She leans her forehead against his. “I love you, Felix.”

“And I you, Ari.”


End file.
